Five Times Peter Didn't Listen to Tony
by LocalGoddess
Summary: … and one time he really shouldn't have.
1. one

The air outside was chilly, but Peter wasn't cold thanks to the awesome heater that Tony had put in his suit. Peter had been patrolling since after school today, and he wasn't planning on going home until he got something _good._ He'd been doing simple, mundane tasks: helping lost tourists find their way, stopping a few amateur muggers, and catching a dude who tried to steal a bag of gummy worms from a convenience store. The shop owner had given Peter the gummy worms as a thank you.

But Peter was _bored._ He wanted to do more, he needed to impress Mr. Stark. He was the closest thing Peter had to a father at the moment, and he'd be damned if he didn't do everything he could to make the man proud.

As the young hero was swinging around the streets, he was interrupted by his stomach loudly growling. _Damn_ , he thought, _stupid super fast metabolism._ He had to eat _all the time_ ever since his spider bite. His stomach was like a bottomless pit these days.

He didn't want to change out of his suit and quit patrolling, but he was feeling very _weak_ because he needed to eat, so he made the quick decision to pop into a hole-in-the-wall pizza place for a slice—or five. The people in the pizza restaurant were very _shocked_ to say the least. Peter even posed for a selfie with one of the guys.

After his little snack, Peter was swinging around the streets when he overheard some _very_ aggressive voices.

 _Finally,_ he thought. _Something interesting._ He swung down to the shadowy alley where the sounds were coming from, and found himself behind an unsuspecting group of guys with some pretty sick looking guns. Was this a drug deal? Illegal weapons deal? Something worse? Peter had no idea. The only thing going through his mind was Mr. Stark's very _insistent_ voice. Peter very clearly remembered the man saying _"If you see any idiots with guns while you're out on patrol, get somewhere safe, and call me. I don't want you getting hurt, you reckless child."_

Despite all of Mr. Stark's instructions and warnings, Peter couldn't let these guys get away. And he _definitely_ didn't want to call Mr. Stark. He could take these guys, he was Spider-Man!

Peter prepared to interject himself into the situation. In a few quick seconds, he had webbed up three of the men, before they even knew what hit them. "Hey guys," Peter called cheerfully, "How's it going?"

He flipped around, webbing up the remaining three guys, as they shouted _nasty_ curses at him. _None of them could even get a shot in,_ Peter thought smugly, _Mr. Stark shouldn't be worried about_ guns _, he knows how quick I am._

Peter webbed one guy in the face to shut him up, he was being _extremely_ rude. "So, what's the occasion—" Peter's would-be snarky comment got cut off by a _bang,_ followed by a sharp, burning pain to Peter's arm. _Oh shit._

Choking back a cry, Peter turned to face the man who had just apparently _shot_ him. He had been so full of adrenaline and the need to impress Mr. Stark that he had overlooked one of the guys.

"You have a bullet wound in your right shoulder, Peter," Karen's voice spoke up. "You're bleeding heavily, and the bullet is still in your arm. I'm alerting Tony Stark." Peter grimaced, "Not yet Karen, give me a minute."

He tried to use his right arm to web up the man, but a shooting pain immediately stopped his movement. _Shit, this is going to hurt like hell_ , Peter thought angrily. He jumped over the man, and swiftly kicked him in the back of the head. The impact of the kick made the man drop his gun, but he still turned, not willing to go down without a fight. "Come on dude, it's not very nice to shoot people," Peter quipped. The man just grunted and swung at Peter, knocking him in the jaw with a sickening _snap._ The hit to the jaw was immediately followed by another one, which landed right above Peter's eye. He figured that the blood loss may be slowing down his reaction time and enhanced senses, because he shouldn't have taken a hit _that_ hard.

Peter swung over the guy, kicking him in the chest and knocking him to the floor. He quickly webbed the man with his left arm and immediately felt the pain of his bullet wound and his jaw return. Peter leaned forwards to catch his breath, when a call from none other than Tony Stark started to come in from his suit. _Oh shit,_ Peter thought hopelessly, _I'm screwed, thanks Karen._

"Karen, decline the call," Peter said desperately.

"I am not authorized to decline Tony's calls in times of distress, Peter."

 _Oh shit, oh shit._ "Oh my god Karen, you're so _stupid."_ He didn't mean it, Peter loved Karen, but he does _not_ want to talk to Mr. Stark about this incident.

"Hey Underoos, I got an alert that you're hurt? Which is odd, considering that you're not _supposed_ to be putting yourself in danger." Tony's voice came from Peter's mask.

Peter's head was spinning from the pain, and the nervousness of Mr. Stark showing up _right now_ , "Uh hey, this is Peter, I can't get to the phone right now? Leave a—"

Tony cut him off, "Yeah kid, good try. _A_ for effort, I'm on my way to you and you had better explain what the _hell_ happened."

Ten minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, Mr. Stark, well Iron Man, showed up, and he wasn't happy. He stepped out of the armor and walked straight towards Peter, not even caring that he was practically stomping on all of the webbed up bad guys.

Tony stared, unmoving, at Peter, and held eye contact as he called to his suit, "FRIDAY, call NYPD to the scene, tell them we have some lovely _criminals_ for them here."

Peter let out a forced laugh, "Hey Mr. Stark, what are you doing here?"

"Cut the shit kid," Tony snapped. "What the _hell_ were you thinking? I remember telling you that if you encountered deadly weapons, like— _for example_ —guns, you are to call me _immediately._ I said that, right?"

"I… uh, Mr. Stark, I'm sorry. I really—" Tony cut him off, "Don't say _sorry_ kid. We've got to get you back to the compound and make sure you're functioning properly. We'll talk about this _later_."

By the time they got back to the compound, the pain in Peter's arm had subsided to a dull, throbbing ache. He hadn't taken off his mask yet, so Mr. Stark wasn't aware of the most likely bruised up mess that was his face, but the gunshot wound was very obvious. Mr. Stark lead Peter into the lab where all of the medical equipment was kept. "Alright kid, you can toss the suit over there. Grab some clothes real quick then get in here so we can patch you up."

Peter went down the hall to his room for when he stays at the compound. He quickly changed into a shirt and a pair of sweatpants before heading back to the lab. He hoped that Mr. Stark wouldn't care that his mask was still on, he didn't want to take if off and reveal even _more_ injuries.

Tony noticed. As soon as Peter entered the lab, Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. "Hell no, kid. You're not gonna fool me. Mask. Off. Now."

Peter shook his head, "Uh, it's fine Mr. Stark. I like the mask." His voice cracked, and went all high, the way that it did when he was nervous. Tony wasn't having it. He leaned against the lab table and crossed his arms, staring Peter down. "I know you're injured, might as well take off the mask now."

Peter considered it, but didn't want to admit the beating that he took, so he just shrugged his shoulders. Tony rolled his eyes, "FRIDAY, scan Peter's injuries."

FRIDAY's voice suddenly sounded through the lab, "Peter has a bullet wound in his right shoulder, a fracture in his jaw, and several open wounds on his face." Of course he forgot about the A.I. and how impossible FRIDAY makes it to lie to Tony.

Tony covered his face with his hands, "Holy _shit_ kid, you're going to be the death of me. Take that mask off and let's get you patched up, so I can fuss at you later for being so _careless._ "

After removing the bullet (which was excruciating since Peter's healing factor made the wound close around the bullet), checking his jaw, and cleaning out all of the various cuts around his face, Tony had grabbed them both a cup of coffee—decaf for Peter and an extra shot (or two) of espresso for Tony.

Tony stood behind the kitchen counter, while Peter was cautiously seated at the table. "Peter, I just want to know what the hell you were thinking…" Tony started. Peter began to speak up, but Tony cut him off. "No. This is where you be quiet and listen to me. You could have been severely injured. I mean, if you weren't _Spider-Man_ you wouldn't be able to be patched up in the fucking lab in _two hours._ Do you understand how much _worse_ this could have been?"

Peter nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact with Tony, "I-I'm sorry Mr. Stark. I didn't mean to get hurt, uh obviously. I just wanted to, you know, impress you? And I mean, it was just a bullet, not too big of a deal."

Tony sighed and took a huge gulp of his coffee, "Uh, incorrect. It's a damn big deal. I swear to all that is holy, you're going to be the death of me, I'm dead serious. Sometimes I think you're gonna make me have a heart attack. Don't go putting yourself in danger, kid. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

After Peter finished his drink, he started to head to his room at the compound. It was already pretty late and he had texted May, saying that he was staying at the compound to work on some suit upgrades. He didn't want to worry her by telling her the _real_ story, injuries and all, so he sorta twisted the truth. Him and Tony had to patch up the suit tomorrow anyways, so it wasn't too big of a lie. He was about to leave the kitchen when Tony called out, "Hey Underoos, I'm glad you're safe. We'll work on suit upgrades tomorrow yeah? We could prototype a bulletproof fabric."

Peter smiled widely, "Yeah that'd be great, thank you Mr. Stark. You're the best!"

"Kid," Tony called down the hall, "I think I've told you about a million times to call me Tony."

Peter laughed, "Goodnight, Tony. Thanks for being the best." He was happy, despite his embarrassing little injury. He fell into bed, exhausted, but excited for what was to come tomorrow.

 **A/N:**

 _Hey y'all! I saw Spider-Man Hoco over the summer, and I fell in love. I've seen it like ten times now it's SO DAMN GOOD. Tony and Peter's father son relationship thing KILLS me it's so goddamn cute. I used to write and read fanfic all the time, but I kinda fell out of it because, ya know, life happens. But after SMHC, my friend sent me a link to Peter Parker fanfic and I fell down a rabbit hole… so here I am! I hope you enjoy this, please leave constructive criticism if you have any!_

 _You can follow my tumblr (_ _ **flowerrgal**_ _) to chat or send requests/ideas/feedback._


	2. two

It was so early that the sun wasn't even up yet. Tony stared out one of the big windows in his kitchen at the Avenger's compound. In one hand, he held a big cup of coffee, the other tapped rhythmically against his leg. Today was a relatively slow day—well in his standards. He had work to do in the lab, a few video conferences with "important people", and a handful of phone calls to make. All before 2:45 PM. Several days a week when Peter wasn't patrolling, he would drop by the Avengers' compound to work with Tony in the lab. Most of the time they just tinker around or do some minor Spider-Man upgrades, but today Tony wanted Peter to help him test out some Iron Man suit upgrades.

Typically, Happy would pick up Peter from school on the days he was coming to the compound, but today Tony wanted to get the kid. He sort of hated to admit it, but he _really_ cared about the kid like he was his own. He went from reluctant mentor to an unspoken father figure in about a year, and while it terrified him in a way, he secretly loved it.

His watch read 2:45, meaning that Peter Parker would soon be bounding excitedly towards Tony's black Audi with tinted windows. Tony turned down AC/DC's _Shoot to Thrill_ so he could talk to Peter when the kid arrived.

But he didn't. Tony checked his watch, which read 2:58. It was _so_ unlike Peter to be slow at leaving school. Happy reports that the kid practically sprints to the car, excited to get onto whatever adventure they were taking on next at the lab. Tony didn't want to overreact, but taking risks with the kid's safety was something he was _not_ about to do. Tony sighed deeply and rested his head against the steering wheel. _Damn, I feel like a worried mom._

Tony effortlessly walked up the stairs at the entrance to the school, ignoring the gaping stares he was received from students and faculty alike. He only faltered for a split second when he saw a photo of his father, the _oh-so-great_ Howard Stark, painted on the wall in the school's entryway. Tony felt something, he wasn't sure what, but it was a mix of anger and pride. _Take that_ , _you sorry excuse for a dad, I'm a better father to a kid that isn't even mine than you were to me._ It was true. He felt responsible for Peter in a way that was _beyond_ being his mentor. He cared about the boy's wellbeing more than his own, and he would do anything and everything to protect him. But he would probably _never_ admit that out loud, because Tony Stark does _not_ do sappy emotions. Well, he doesn't do sappy emotions _out loud._ He can be as big of a sap as he wants in his own head.

Tony's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. The voice in question sounded exasperated and annoyed. Tony followed the sounds, he heard two voices consistently, with another one popping in every few sentences. As he turned the corner, he found himself staring at a disheveled Peter Parker, sporting a hurt but mostly annoyed expression. Peter stood next to his nerdy friend, and self proclaimed "Guy In The Chair", Ned. The problem seemed to be this short, greasy haired kid, about Peter's age. The boy stood unknowingly between Tony and his intern/superhero/almost child. Tony could sense aggression in this boy's attitude, and he could spot the high school bully type from a mile away. This kid fit the profile. Tony could hear the kid hurtling all sorts of verbal assaults at Peter, about how much of a "nerd" he is (seriously, is that the best this kid could do?) and how he _knows_ that Tony Stark would _never_ have a loser like _Peter Parker_ as his intern.

Tony was about to interrupt the kid, when Peter decided to _finally_ notice Tony. His face changed from bored to a mix of shock and relief. Ned noticed too, but being the oblivious fanboy he is, he blurted out "Oh! Hey Mr. Stark". The bully wasn't having it. He laughed skeptically, "Oh come _on_ Penis Parker. How dumb do you think I am? I'm not gonna believe you just because _Nerd_ is in on your little scam too." Tony figured that this must be Flash, the loser that May had briefly told him about. Apparently this kid had some sort of grudge against Peter, because Peter was significantly smarter than him.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the kid shoved Peter. Peter being the idiot he was, let it happen and fell to the ground, hitting his head. _Okay,_ Tony thought, _this is enough._ He cleared his throat, and called Peter's name. The bully kid turned around so fast, Tony was surprised that his head didn't fall off. _That would've been nice though._ The kid was at a loss for words, he kept blabbering and saying "holy _fuck_ you're Tony Stark" over and over again.

Tony crossed his arms, "Uh, yeah. Always have been. Now, Flash is it? Are we going to have a _problem_ here? I don't like it when high school losers pick on my interns. Especially _this_ particular intern," he gestured dramatically at Peter. "So I believe an apology is in order. And if I catch wind of you even _breathing_ aggressivelyin his direction—oh and Ned's as well—I can promise you that you'll have trouble getting into _any_ remotely good college in the country. Understood?" The bully nodded slowly, he looked like he was about to shit his pants. He muttered out an apology to Peter and Ned, then fled the hallway so fast, Tony wondered if _that's_ why he was named Flash. Tony finally looked at Peter, who was staring at the ground. He cleared his throat loudly, "kid, we're going to the lab today. Remember? We'll talk about this on the way."

The kid said a quick goodbye to Ned, and promised that they'd build whatever LEGO set sometime next week, and then they were off. The walk to the car was quiet, but once they got in, Tony rested his head against the steering wheel, and signed in exasperation. Peter started to say something, stuttered for a second, and then fell quiet again.

Tony started the car, and began the drive to the compound. After they were further from the city, he switched off the stereo, and tried to piece together a sentence. "Kid, what the _hell_ was that? I know he's got this petty grudge against you or something—May told me all about it—but you're supposed to tell me these things. I didn't hallucinate saying that to you, right? I definitely told you to tell me if you're having problems with him."

Peter rubbed his eyes and sighed, "yeah but Mr. Sta—"

"Tony,"

"Right. Tony. He's just mad about me being on the decathlon team, and that I sometimes miss practice for the, uh internship, you know? And then a while ago Ned said that I knew Spider-Man because Ned's a dumbass sometimes, and _then_ when _Spider-Man_ stole Flash's car, he got really aggressive. Like more than usual. Which I _totally_ understand. Like it was his dad's car and he—"

Tony cut him off again, "Peter. Shut up for a minute. Just because you fight bad guys as Spider-Man, doesn't mean you can't also fight back as Peter Parker. You know that right? I want you to, first of all, _tell me these things_ and also defend yourself."

Peter let out an angry groan, "No Mr. St—shit I mean, Tony. You don't understand. I _can't_ fight back. Because Peter Parker _couldn't_ fight back and win. Besides, I'd accidentally hurt him. I can stop a _bus_ with my bare hands, I think I'd honestly _crush_ Flash." Peter fiddled with the window button on his door, "and I mean, it's not that important anyways, I didn't think you'd care so much."

He didn't know why, but that comment made him mad. He thought that it should be clear why he cares so much, he had assumed that Peter knew _why_ he'd care. He slammed on the brakes and pulled the car over, then turned to face Peter. The kid opened his mouth to talk, but Tony cut him off. "Zip it for a second kid. Why would I make you a multimillion dollar suit with over a hundred protective protocols for you if I didn't care?"

"Over a _hundred_ what th—"

"Why would I not only have your suit report your vitals to FRIDAY every time you wear it, but give you a watch that also records and reports them directly to me, twenty-four seven? Why would I have constant surveillance on your apartment, and extra security measures to insure your aunts safety? Why would I pay for your schooling if I didn't care? Why would I have you spend countless afternoons at the compound if I didn't care? Please, enlighten me."

Peter seemed to be at a loss for words. It was silent for a good three minutes, and the silence was making Tony uncomfortable. He covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath. "Look kid, I'm not good at being _emotional._ I don't do well with human connections, I have many skills, but dealing with emotions is not one of them. But—listen. I have Pep and Happy, and they know how I am, and they can deal with it. Then you—literally— _swing_ in and you remind me _so much_ of me when I was younger, before I made all my bad decisions. And before I knew it, I'm over here caring for you like you're my own. And I know I'm _not good_ at it, and I'm probably the shittiest person for the job, considering I'm a previous alcoholic and I do better with A.I.'s and robots than I do with people, but here we are." Tony rubbed his eyes, "look, what I'm trying to say is that I _do_ care. I want you to be _better_ than me, and I want you to know that I really do care, even though I'm bad at it."

The boy stared at him, his eyes welling up with tears. _Oh fuck. I've made him cry. I'm so bad at this holy sh—_

His thoughts were interrupted by Peter reaching out to give him an odd, one armed hug. It was the best he could do, considering they were in a car. Peter smiled, "uh Tony, I'm sorry I just—I didn't want to bother you and I didn't want to like, get my hopes up because you're the closest thing I've had to, you know, since Uncle Ben died. And I convinced myself that you just felt sorry for me but I know that's not it. And yeah. Uh, anyways, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Flash, but you really embarrassed him so thanks."

Tony rolled his eyes, "yeah, the little prick deserves a lot more than just _embarrassment_ but we'll see." He pulled back onto the road, and headed towards the compound again. "You ready to get to work?"

Peter reached out and turned the radio back on, "hell yeah."

After spending a solid eight hours in the lab with minimal breaks—just one for pizza and another for more pizza—Tony and Peter were both exhausted. To say that Peter loved working on the Iron Man suit was an understatement. The kid geeked. He had several good ideas, and was eager to test out all the equipment. He reminded Tony so much of himself when he was younger, it was scary. He felt a strong surge of pride as he saw the kid solve many of the problems that arose during their work, and he watched as the kid diligently worked on his project. But even super-spider teenagers had their limits, and by eleven, Peter was nearly falling asleep. Tony had began to wrap up their work, leaving it ready to be picked up again tomorrow. Since it was a Friday, Tony had sent May a quick text saying that Peter would be staying at the compound tonight, and they'd resume their work in the morning.

Tony heard Peter's footsteps as he was leaving the lab to go to his quarters, but the footnotes suddenly stopped. The room was silent for a moment except for the sounds of machinery, until Peter's voice rang out, "Tony, I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. You're the best."

Before Tony could answer, Peter was gone. Tony smiled to himself, he didn't know how it had happened, but he knew Peter was now part four of his little broken family, and he loved it.


	3. three

It had been a pretty busy week for Tony. Meetings, phone calls, and video conferences, all to straighten out this Accords bullshit that was _still_ being worked out. Tony had been spread so thin all week, barely having any time to himself, let alone time for anyone else. He felt sort of bad, Peter had been in the at the compound after school a few times this week, and Tony had barely enough time and energy for a half assed conversation with the kid. _God_ he felt like a terrible mentor, father figure, whatever. It was finally the end of the week, and though he was running on three hours of sleep and a few gallons of coffee, Tony decided it was time for him to give Peter some of his attention. It was really the least he could do. The kid had been a godsend all week. After chatting Tony's ear off on Monday afternoon, and receiving a terse "yeah" in response from Tony, the kid realized that this week would be a rough one. He then must have made it his personal mission—between homework assignments and web fluid upgrades—to make sure Tony didn't starve to death, while still staying out of his way. Pepper, who was out of town, would be proud of Peter's "Tony-management skills".

Tony felt like he owed the kid a good day, without the secondhand stress of this Accords drama, and without his short, stressed temper. He downed another cup of coffee, "Hey FRIDAY, does the kid have decathlon practice this afternoon?"

"Peter's schedule is clear this afternoon, boss," came the ambient reply.

Tony made a sound of approval, while grabbing his jacket and sunglasses and moving to leave the lab "Notify Happy that I'm going to pick up the kid, and if Pep gets back while I'm gone, tell her where I am," Tony was about to head down to the garage level, when he stopped. "Oh yeah, also tell May that Peter is staying here for the weekend. And I can set up a weekend trip for her if she'd like." Tony knew May wouldn't want to get away, she didn't like extravagant things, but Tony knew how much stress she was under—raising a teenage vigilante took quite a toll—and thought the gesture would at least be appreciated.

Shortly after the school bell rang, Tony could see Peter bounding towards the car, he could see the kid's face light up when he spotted Tony in the driver's seat. Peter quickly climbed into the passenger's seat, and carelessly tossed his backpack in the back. He beamed with excitement, "Mr. Stark I—"

"Tony."

" _Tony_ ," the kid said with as much teenage attitude as he could muster. "I didn't know you'd be picking me up today, you went all Working-Machine-Tony this week."

Tony shrugged, "Watch it, Spider-Kid. It's been a busy week. Superhero drama doesn't all work itself out on it's _own._ "

Peter rolled his eyes with a grin, "Welcome back to the human world then." He paused for a beat, looking curiously out the window. "Wait where are we going? You want to get back to the lab and check out the new web fluid I worked up?"

"Oh yeah. Well I feel like a super shitty—" _parent,_ he stopped himself from saying. "Uh mentor, or whatever, for going MIA all week so I wanted to get some food and hear about your week. Then we can go back to the lab, I have some blueprints we should go over."

Peter's eyes went wide, "Oh that's awesome! What kind of food? I'm, like, really _really_ hungry."

"It's up to you, but I'd kill for some Mexican food."

Peter was practically buzzing with energy, and his stomach was growling so _loudly._ Super-spider metabolism, Tony guessed. When they eventually got seated at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, Tony ordered a coffee, Peter got a cherry Coke, and Tony ordered them some chips and queso. Tony didn't need to look at the menu, he's drunk ordered from this place too many times to count. He took a long drink of his coffee.

"So kid, how's school?"

Peter looked up from the menu, "Uh, it's alright I guess. Stressful. I've got an essay due on Monday and I'm lost. I don't really understand why I need to spend time analyzing _Gatsby_ when I can stop a bus with my bare hands, but it's whatever."

Tony snorted with laughter, "Just watch the movie. It's much better, plus Leonardo DiCaprio is in it. FRIDAY can write the essay for you if you'd like." He paused, "Actually no. That's terrible advice, write your own essays, I don't condone cheating with the help of AI. Don't listen to me I give terrible advice."

The kid grinned, "So if I don't tell anyone that it was your idea, FRIDAY _hypothetically_ could write that paper for me? Because that would hypothetically be awesome."

"I'm not answering that."

"That sounds like an answer."

Tony covered his face in feigned exasperation, "Why are teenage superhumans so difficult?"

Peter didn't answer, he was too busy digging into the chips and queso. "So, what's been going on with you all week?" the kid asked through a mouthful of chips, "What kind of Accords bullshit?"

For a brief moment, Tony considered correcting the kid's language. He decided against it. "Don't talk with food in your mouth, that's gross. It was just—after Rogers and his, uh you know, after they all got cleared, they're considering coming back to the city." Tony and Peter had spend countless hours in the lab, and Peter had spend many weekends and school breaks at the compound, so he's in the loop about the whole _shitstorm._ Tony liked to tell the kid about this stuff too, to keep him in the loop. He was more than just Tony's protégé, he was a superhuman—an unofficial Avenger—so he needed to be aware. "They want to rebuild the team, with all this _intergalactic_ _threat_ bullshit looming in the future. The media will spin it —well I don't know how they'll do it, but they'll fuck it up somehow. But Rogers is right, they need to come back, we need to get our shit together. It's just a lot of—"

Tony was cut off by the waitress approaching the table. She smiled sweetly, "You two know what you want?"

Tony ordered what he always ordered for delivery—three chicken fajita tacos, extra guacamole, and slathered with extra "Diablo sauce". He also asked for a water. The waitress turned to Peter expectantly. He turned red, "Oh, I forgot to look at the menu! I'm sorry oh my god I have no—" he stopped his rambling as the blackboard titled "weekly specials" caught his eye. He nodded towards the sign, "I'll have three of that, I guess."

The waitress smiled, "Got it. Is extra sauce okay?"

Peter just nodded. As the waitress walked off, Peter dug into the chips and queso again. Tony spoke up. "Peter, that's literally the hottest thing on the menu. With _extra_ sauce. That sauce is like _fire._ I can call her back here if you want to get something else?"

He shook his head, "No no no, don't do that. I felt so dumb forgetting what to order. This always happens when we go to eat at decathlon meets. I start talking and forget to look at the menu so I end up ordering the first thing I see. So nobody laughs at me for forgetting, because ordering food is so awkward to begin with, you know?" He sighs, "and come on, I fought a crazy dude with alien tech while airborne without my suit, I can handle _spicy_ food."

"Peter. I'm being serious. Rhodey tried that once and _cried._ He _cried._ Tears were streaming down his face. He ate sour cream with a _spoon_ to make it feel better."

The kid pointed a chip at him, "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"Did you just quote _Star Wars_ at me you nerd-child?"

"You're the one who caught the reference, Mr. St—"

"Tony."

"Yeah. Nerd-Tony."

Some time later, the food finally came. Peter's eyes lit up at the sight, despite all the chips and queso he consumed. Tony decided that it's definitely the super-spider metabolism. This kid's stomach was a bottomless pit. They thanked the waitress, and Tony immediately dug into his meal. _God,_ he thought, _I haven't eaten all day._ After he finished his first taco, he looked over to Peter. The kid's face was bright red. He had scarfed down one out the three tacos, and he looked like he was about to cry. _Oh shit._

"Tony holy shit. This is—oh my god my mouth is on _fire."_

Tony tried to suppress his laughter, he _really_ did. Peter was _sweating_ and reaching for Tony's water because he drained his Coke in about three seconds. He shook his head, "Kid, I'd hate to say _I told you so,_ but—" he broke off with a laugh.

"Oh my god I think I'm going to die. I can't feel my face. I need more water," Peter spoke quickly, and his words were slightly slurred due to the ice cubes that he held in his mouth. "Tony I think I'm dying. Stop laughing!" Tony just laughed, as he waved down the waitress to get a few more glasses of water. This was gold.

After Peter's face stopped burning, Tony gave him the rest of his own meal. He had tipped the waitress with a hundred dollar bill as thanks for deal tolerating his protégé as he suffered death-by-spicy-food, and then they were off to the compound. After the initial " _holy shit my mouth is on fire"_ phase had passed, Peter agreed that the entire situation was pretty damn funny. He was also proud to know that he didn't cry as much as Rhodey had. After a few hours working on miscellaneous projects in the lab, Tony and Peter both were nearly passed out with exhaustion. He bid the kid goodnight, and started off to his floor, thinking about that while he may not be the _World's Best Role Model,_ he'd do everything he can to be the best mentor, _parent,_ teacher for Peter, no matter what.


End file.
